


3 A.M.

by WanderingCreep



Series: the afterlife and times [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Late Night Breakfast Run, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingCreep/pseuds/WanderingCreep
Summary: the morning after you save the world is always awkward.set after Resident Evil: Vendetta (2017)





	3 A.M.

**Author's Note:**

> i never realized that i liked chris and leon as a pairing until coming to this tag.  
> i know it's actually morning when the end of the movie takes place, but for aesthetic purposes, lets just pretend they finished up early in the morning before the sun even rises.

3 A.M.

 

Leon has never been afraid of flying.

But when the bird lands in a landing zone back in D.C., Leon has never felt more grateful to be getting the fuck off of that thing. He hurries off the helicopter as best he can with his slight limp, injured arm cradled in the other and breathes in a sigh of relief.

He needs a drink and he’s fucking starving.

He hears boots coming down the ramp after him and tosses a question at Chris’ approach. “What time is it?”

He hears Chris pause behind him and can probably guess that he’s giving him an incredulous look behind his back. “Do I look like I wear a watch?”

“It’s three twenty-three,” supplies Rebecca, and from the exasperated tone of her voice, it sounds like she rolled her eyes, too.

Leon finally turns to see them. Rebecca is still wrapped up in the jacket, looking tired, but healthy. Chris is equally as tired looking, covered in smears of blood, dirt and what was most likely zombie fluids. Leon can only guess he’s got a similar look going on too.

He can’t wait to get into the shower and hit the bed like a sack of bricks. But first, he needs food; he hasn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, and really, a bottle of whiskey didn’t count much as breakfast.

“Hey, guys,” he says, flinging the question towards D.C. and Nadia, “can you guys get Rebecca to the hotel on your own?”

Chris shoots him a quizzical look. Nadia shrugs her uninjured shoulder, hand firmly placed over the bandaged covered one. “Yeah, sure. But what are you guys gonna do?”

“We need to check in at the office for a sec,” says Leon smoothly. “We’ll catch up in a bit.” Nadia looks like she has a billion things to ask. D.C. looks blankly at Leon and Chris, then seems to come to a conclusion in his own head.

“Do your thing, man,” he says eventually, giving them a thumbs up. “We got this.”

Leon nods his thanks, with Chris still looking lost next to him. He wrangles Rebecca into a one-armed hug. “Get some rest, Doctor High Hopes,” he says. Rebecca leans deep into it, smiling. “I will. Stay in touch will you? And quit fighting with Chris.”

Leon grins beside himself. “It’s fun fighting with Chris,” he says in way of explanation.

“We’ll be back later,” says Chris, though he still looks confused. “Get some sleep.”

While Rebecca and the others load into the convoy waiting to take them to the hotel, Chris crosses his arms over his chest and says, “What’s the real reason we’re not going back with them?”

Leon hums. “Looks like we saved the day again, Redfield.”

Chris glances sidelong at him. “Yeah…?”

“And I still haven’t eaten since you dragged me out of the bar this morning.”

“Yeah?”

Leon turns towards him slightly. “So as thanks for me coming out here to risk my neck _again_ , you can treat me to dinner.”

Chris gives him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“I am. I’m not asking for much.”

Chris sternly holds his gaze for all of two minutes before he caves. He rolls his eyes and lets his arms fall to his sides. “Well, it’s three in the morning. May as well make it breakfast.”

Leon grins at him. “Long as your buying.”

Chris shakes his head. Inwardly, he’s just counting himself lucky that Leon was just asking for breakfast and not enough booze to rival a whiskey brewery. “Knew there was something going on. ‘ _Check in at the office’_ my ass. Paperwork was never one of your favorite things.”

Leon shrugs. “Beats being out on the field again.”

Chris walks them towards the Hummer waiting by itself a little ways away. “You know, if you wanted a date, you could have just asked me the old-fashioned way.”

The look Leon gives him has enough venom to kill small animals.

 

 

Of course the only place open at three in the morning is a rundown little Waffle House on the corner.

Leon and Chris cram themselves into a tiny booth in the back where Leon turns in his seat and leans back against the window and crosses his legs along the length of the bench. Chris sits properly on his side of the booth, though he’s got one leg stretched out to let his foot rest on the open space of Leon’s bench. They both look way worse in the white fluorescent light of the restaurant and judging by the look their waitress gives them, they look like utter shit.

Leon tiredly slurs his way through an order of waffles, a side of bacon (extra crispy), and some eggs (scrambled). He also asks for coffee as black as she can make it. Chris asks for waffles as well, with hash browns, a side of sausage (Leon grins lewdly at him and gets an eyeroll for his trouble) and a glass of water.

“There’s something to be said about you wanting a date and ordering sausage,” chirps Leon. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Chris glares at him and blows into his half-open straw, shooting the paper wrapper at Leon. “Shut the fuck up.”

The waitress returns with their food after a comfortably exhausted silence between the two of them.

“You boys have a rough night?” she asks, sounding slightly sarcastic. Leon’s not sure, he’s never been that great at reading people.

“It’s been interesting,” he replies politely. The waitress smiles tightly at him and then she’s gone. Leon watches her disappear behind the counter, and shrugs at Chris.

Chris shakes his head and picks up his fork. “You just had to get something to eat,” he mumbles, “right after a bioweapon attack.”

“I was hungry,” says Leon in his defense. He’s already begun syruping up his waffles, making sure to meticulously fill each waffle pocket with the stuff. “And this is a Waffle House, for god’s sake. They’ve seen worse. Must be everyday they see something completely fucked.”

Chris doesn’t look convinced.

Leon rolls his eyes. “Look, if it makes you feel better, _I’ll_ tip her.”

 

 

Leon does tip the waitress; in fact, he leaves her a ten.

Chris gives him a flat look, to which Leon just shrugs and piles himself back into the Hummer. He shuts the door behind him and winces at the pain in his arm. “Should’ve asked for some ice too,” he murmurs.

He checks the time on the dashboard console. Already fifteen past four.

Chris steers the Hummer towards the hotel and the two of them settle back into silence. Leon leans against the window with his shoulder, still cradling his injured arm. The darkness outside is starting to look less dark as the morning grows older. It’s not nearly light outside, but to Leon the sky looks less black and a little more indigo. There aren’t even any stars out anymore.

He glances back at Chris, barely able to make him out in the light of the dashboard console. They pass under a street light and his face flushes orange with the light. In that split second of illumination, Leon can see a strong jawline peppered with dark stubble, a handsome brow and eyes the color of mahogany. Chris is ruggedly handsome, but Leon already knew that; he looked like the kind of guy who split logs in half with his bare hands. A real man’s man.

He looked like a hero. The kind you saw in comic books, the one who did no wrong and cared about everyone and did the right thing all the time no matter what.

Leon turned back to the window and took in his own reflection. He knew he was a looker too, pretty easy on the eyes, but he knew he didn’t look as traditionally heroic as Chris. Ashley had told him long ago that he had a bad boy charm about him, that he looked like the type of guy who broke rules and challenged authority every chance he got. Not exactly the heroic type. And to be fair, he hadn’t really been acting like a hero either these past few weeks.

So maybe his appearance fit him perfectly.

It’s not like he liked the person he’d become. He hated how cynical and dependent on alcohol he’d gotten to function like a normal human being from day to day. It was just…hard to get back into the swing of things when it felt like you weren’t doing anything with your life. Like you had no purpose except to lose everyone and everything over and over and over again until either you died or the world just gave up around you. It was exhausting…

Leon doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until he’s waking up again, jerking himself back into the realm of consciousness after feeling someone shake his shoulder.

“Whoa, easy,” comes the voice. “We’re here, is all.”

Leon blinks to clear his sleep-bleary eyes and peels himself away from the window. Chris retracts his arm and shakes his head. “Geez. Make me pay for breakfast and then fall asleep on me. Some help you are.”

Leon lets the comment go on account of how stuffed with cotton his head feels. Chris looks at him again, and then laughs softly. “Your hair’s stuck to your face, Kennedy.”

Leon grimaces and reaches up. Sure enough, he can feel his bangs clinging to the right side of his face. He brushes them away figuring that they’d gotten stuck there from his light doze against the window.

Chris hums. “Gorgeous.”

Leon scowls and tiredly flips him the middle finger. His exit from the Hummer is less graceful than usual, and once he’s out, he immediately goes for his arm again. He rolls the appendage in its joint, trying to get the stiffness out of it and joins Chris on the other side. Chris takes care of getting a room while Leon just tiredly smiles at the concierge at the desk, who is eying the two of them like they’ve just sprung up from the sewer. How insensitive.

Room keys secured, they shuffle towards the elevators, and Chris jams the button for the fifth floor. The doors close behind them, shutting out the rest of the world, and the car ascends.

“I’m stubborn, I know,” says Leon, seemingly out of nowhere.

Chris glances sidelong at him. “Okay?”

“It’s just…” Leon sighs deep and tired. “It’s hard to find any hope when all it feels like you’re doing is going around in circles, fighting a lost cause every fucking week.” Softer, he adds, “Not all of us are strong enough to keep going like this. To keep losing and losing.”

He can feel Chris’ eyes on him. He shuts his eyes and takes a breath, and when he opens them again, he says, “Look, all I’m trying to say is…” Leon keeps his eyes on the pad of buttons on the wall in front of him. “I’m sorry it took those bastards taking Rebecca to really get my ass in gear. I know she’s like a little sister to you…I’d never want anything to happen to her either. I’m just so sick and tired of living like this, you know? Wondering when I’m gonna lose someone I care about to a battle we can’t ever seem to win.”

The weight of Chris’ gaze slides off of Leon’s shoulders and onto the ceiling. Leon lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I know. It’s...terrifying,” he says frankly. “But that’s what keeps me going. We’ve been in this game together for a while. And sometimes I wanted to quit. You know, let someone else take over and try to solve the world’s problems.” Chris shrugs then, leaning back against the wall.

“But then I think of Rebecca and Claire and Jill…they need me. If no one else, _they_ need me. And I can’t just quit on them. So I keep going.”

Leon shook his head. “Sometimes it’s too much, you know?”

“Yeah,” says Chris. “And it won’t get easier. But if you don’t keep going, you’ll hate yourself for the rest of your life knowing you let the people you were trying to protect down.”

He pauses and purses his lips. The elevator dings then, and the doors slide open onto the fifth floor. Leon lets his feet carry him down the hall in tandem with Chris’. He has no idea where they’re going, but Chris seems to. He stops in front of one door, slips the keycard into the lock and looks back at Leon.

“You remember China?” asks Chris.

Leon frowns. He didn’t want to, he’d been drinking to forget it. “Yeah.”

“When Neo-Umbrella launched that missile into Lianshang, I was terrified. I’d already lost my team, and then I was going to lose an entire city on top of that. And when I called you and heard the missile go off in the background, I was terrified I was going to lose you too.”

Chris gets the door open and Leon dazedly follows him inside.

 “We lose friends all the time. More than I’d ever want to. But you…thinking that you had gotten caught up in that, I wanted to quit. I didn’t want to watch anymore of the people I cared about die. And to be honest, before the Lianshang incident, before Simmons, I did quit.”

Leon freezes. He did?

“Yeah,” says Chris with a bitter smile, having seen the look on Leon’s face. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed nearest the window. Feeling a little awkward being the only one standing, Leon found his way to the other unoccupied bed.

“For a while there, I hit rock bottom. It was…maybe June of 2013,” says Chris, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “It was right after the Edonia disaster. I lost almost my entire team to the C-virus. Watched ‘em turn into monsters.”

He shook his head. “Something happened. I got hit in the head or something, I don’t know, but I couldn’t remember anything. I woke up, and even though I didn’t remember what happened, I couldn’t handle the guilt, and instead of going out to figure out the whole story, I quit. Ran away. I was gone for about six months, I think. Piers found me piss drunk in a bar in Eastern Europe.” Chris raised an eyebrow in Leon’s direction. “Sound familiar?”

“That was when you went to Lianshang?”

Chris looked back at his hands. “Yeah.”

Leon stares down at their feet. Chris had never told him that. He’d read the Edonia report, sure, but he had no idea where Chris went afterwards or what had happened to him. He’d heard that the man had disappeared from the hospital a while after being admitted, but he’d just figured Chris was off doing god knows what in the name of revenge, or trying to scope out his next move, or something inherently _Chris_ - _like_.

Not drinking to numb the pain in some rundown bar in Europe.

Leon smiles bitterly. “Looks like we’re both pretty broken and fucked up, huh?”

Chris looks up at him. “Yeah, looks that way. Look, I said all that to tell you that I get where you’re coming from. And because I know that, I probably could’ve been a little more understanding when we came to you. A little more patient, you know? It’s hard finding reason to keep going after you’ve been that far deep in the bottle.”

Leon blinks. Wow, that was very un-Chris-like. It wasn’t that he was mean or calloused, that wasn’t the type of guy Chris was at all. It was more like apologizing wasn’t his strong suit. Neither was Leon’s, either, but the night seemed to be full of surprises.

“No,” says Leon, blinking again, “no, it’s…. it’s fine. The world was at stake again, and there was not really any time for that and-“

“ _Leon_ ,” Chris cuts in. He gives him a fond, lopsided grin. “You’re starting to ramble. Just take the apology.”

Oof, _wow_. Apology? Leon was never good at heart-to-heart moments like this. He was just a little too awkward for it, kept his thoughts and emotions bottled up for a little too long. He wasn’t sure how to handle genuine emotion all at once.

“Oh. Is that what that was?” he snarks in defense. Sarcasm and quips, his best strategy. Thankfully, Chris rolls his eyes and leans back on his hands. “Ass. See if I ever try to be nice to you again.”

He’s smiling when he says it though.

Leon starts to shrug out of his jacket, feeling a little warm what with his social awkwardness taking a bit of a front seat at the moment, and immediately regrets it when he jostles his injured arm. He winces audibly, curling the arm in on his chest.

Chris switches places from the window bed to Leon’s in the blink of an eye, hovering in the space between as though he’s not sure whether or not to get close. “You okay?”

Leon nods. “I’m okay. Arias had some grip.”

And not just Arias squeezing the life out of him; he’d been thrown into the corner of a building, tossed through a sheet of glass, and fought off a small battalion of zombies with nothing but a handgun. It was a wonder that only his arm was giving him the most trouble.

“You sure?” murmurs Chris. “You’ve been holding onto it all night.”

Chris tucks his thumbs into the sides of Leon’s jacket, like he’s trying to slide it off, and Leon jumps. “It’s fine, man. It’s just a – “

Leon feels kind of dumb for not realizing how close they were until now. Chris is close enough that Leon can see himself reflected in his eyes, can smell the sweetness of the syrup from their early breakfast on his breath. He feels like a high school kid again, heartbeat fluttering, breaths coming short and quick; god, you’d think he’d never kissed anyone before.

Because that’s what they’re doing now, apparently.

Chris closes the distance first, eyes flickering from Leon’s lips to his eyes, then closes them properly so he can kiss him. His grip on Leon’s jacket tightens, using one hand to brace himself against the edge of the mattress. Leon reaches up and grabs the front strap of Chris’ vest and pulls him in impossibly closer, which, apparently, Chris translates as a challenge to see just how close their bodies can physically get before melting into each other.

He surges forward, pushing back with his lips, his hands, until Leon gets the idea and lets him lean him back, nice and easy, flat against the mattress. When Leon thinks he can’t breathe anymore, Chris breaks away, only to reattach himself again with his lips on Leon’s neck. He’s sweet, kisses his pulse, the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and startles Leon when he bites him – actually bites him – in the space between his jaw and throat.

Hm. Leon never would’ve pegged Chris for a biter. He voices this aloud.

“Would be easier,” mumbles Chris between kisses, “if this jacket wasn’t in the way.”

His thumbs are still hooked in the sides of it, so he pushes it back off of Leon’s shoulders, and goes for new territory in Leon’s collarbone.

Leon hums thoughtfully as Chris moves up to his throat. “Better?”

Chris grunts, an annoyed, guttural sound. “Shirt’s in the way now. Jacket needs to come off.”

“You’re not even making proper sentences now – _fuck!”_

The front of Chris’ tactical vest comes down hard on Leon’s injured arm, sending him arching off the mattress. Chris immediately jumps back like he’s been burned.

“Are you okay? Did I-“ He looks at Leon wrapping a hand protectively around his arm and decides then, nodding firmly to himself.

“Jacket’s coming off.”

He loops a hand under Leon’s uninjured arm and guides him to the small bathroom, flicking on the light and leaning him against the sink counter. He slides the jacket sleeve down Leon’s arm, taking extra care not to accidently jostle it any more than he already has and winces.

“Oh, _man_.”

The entirety of Leon’s upper arm is completely black and purple. Five bands of bruises wrap around the arm like tattoos, starting from just below the joint of his shoulder and ending just roughly under his elbow.

“Well, that sucks.” Leon drags his gaze down his arm, then looks at Chris’. “Hey, how come you aren’t all bruised up?”

Chris shrugs and gives him a smug grin. “You’re skinnier than me.”

Leon glares at him. “’ _Leaner’_ , is the term you’re looking for.”

Chris’ grin turns into a full-fledged smile. “Sure. C’mon, let me see the rest of you.”

Leon rolls his eyes and pushes off from the counter. “Aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” But he busies himself with getting out of the jacket and pulling his shirt over his head anyway.

Chris sputters. “What – I just bought you breakfast, like, an hour ago! I want to see if there’s any other bruises on you.”

Sure enough there are bruises along Leon’s left shoulder (from where he hit the sheet of glass) and some on his ribs (from where Arias had held onto him with the intent to crush him to death) and some slashed across his back (where he hit the corner of the building after being thrown into it like a ragdoll).

He winces as Chris pokes around each one, mumbling to himself. “I can’t kiss you if I’m hurting you, asshole.”

Leon ducks his head enough for his bangs to cover the flush in his cheeks. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is, to be scolded because you’re loved. But coming from Chris, it kind of is, in the way that Chris isn’t shouting at him because he fucked up (like usual), but because he’s concerned. It’s nice.

Chris turns his back to face him, hands still warm and pliable on his sides. For a moment, they stand there watching each other, Chris’ gaze obviously wandering over the facets of Leon’s body. He may not be as chiseled as Chris, but he was no slouch either, built a little more like a gymnast than a football player, leaner and less bulky. He feels Chris’ gaze stop at the scar on his chest, what was left over from taking a bullet for Ada back in Raccoon City.

Chris finally flicks his eyes back up to Leon’s face, and Leon grins. “Is my zombie brains-smeared skin and sweaty hair turning you on, Redfield?”

Chris snorts and brushes his thumbs across Leon’s sides. “You have no idea.”

“Gross.”

Chris shakes his head, dropping his hands and boxing Leon in with his arms braced on the sink behind him, and looks at him with a lopsided grin. “Okay. Stay put, I’m gonna go get some ice for these bruises. And when I get back, we can pick up where we left off.”

“After a shower. I can’t be covered in blood and dirt forever.”

“Ha. I don’t put out on the first date, Kennedy.”

Leon shoves him with a roll of his eyes. “That was _not_ an invitation for you to join me. And that was super lame.”

“This coming from the king of one-liners.”

 “Ugh, shut the fuck up forever.”

They’re laughing all the same though.

 

While Chris is gone and Leon is in the shower, he wonders if he can convince Chris to join him on the rest of his vacation. He's still got, like, a week left. Maybe by then they’ll have worked their way up to 'showering together' status.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm here at neonflavored.tumblr.com//


End file.
